


the choiceless hope in grief

by redledgers



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Desperation, F/M, Inspired by Orpheus and Eurydice (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Post-Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 17:17:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20393311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redledgers/pseuds/redledgers
Summary: “Take me,” she says, and she cannot bring herself to look at the face of the demon who offers such pity because she can’t. Chloe does not deserve, does notwant, this pity.





	the choiceless hope in grief

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to the blessed sarma for the art and [obli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObliObla/pseuds/ObliObla) for pushing me to write this.
> 
> title & inspiration from "talk" by hozier, brought to you by the ladies of the filli hircus discord

* * *

For a moment, she feels as if she is at the edge of a chasm; the anticipation of a drop, of weightlessness, roots itself in her stomach. She thinks of falling, wonders if this was how he felt, just before he toppled over the edge of Heaven. _ I could too, _ she thinks. And she does fall, spilling onto her knees on the balcony where he was standing only minutes before.

It feels like an eternity.

If Chloe were a holy woman, she would clasp her hands together and pray for forgiveness. She would beg for just one thing in return for a lifetime of devotion and any sacrament that was asked of her. But she has loved the Devil, and she has no room in her heart for someone who would do what his father had done to him. She can never be a holy woman, no matter how many times he has told her she is _ good. _

She goes to Maze when her breaths are steady, when the tears have dried, when the mask stays put. “Take me,” she says, and she cannot bring herself to look at the face of the demon who offers such pity because she _ can’t_. Chloe does not deserve, does not _ want_, this pity.

“Bring me to him,” she demands, storming toward Amenadiel and shoving her weight against him in her desperation. “Take me there.” _ Take me there before I do something reckless_, she thinks, but she is past recklessness in her slowly burning desire to be _ there _, wherever he is. But he can’t. Or won’t. She doesn’t want his pity, either.

Another story tugs at the back of her mind, and it is then she promises herself that if it comes to that, she will not look back. She will not let him look back because she cannot lose him to the pit he has clawed his way free from, cannot let him cast aside his forgiveness as readily as he casts aside the masks he keeps hanging in his closet. They have only just come to terms with this and it is not enough.

In her dreams, she goes to him, sinks below the surface like a modern day Orpheus. _ Reckless, reckless, reckless_. But she does not care. 

His hand is scorching in her own, his eyes desperate, his grip tight. _ Don’t let go_, he seems to say, and she won’t. She can’t. She will drag him from Hell, make a deal, sell her soul if she must. This time, she would not let him slip through her fingers when all she had to do was hold on. She has held on before, but never this tightly. Never like this.

_ Take us home_, she pleads, but cannot give her thoughts a voice, not here, where the stone swallows them in towering arms. It’s enough though, and he goes willingly. He is captor and king, but he is also _ hers_. 

In her dreams, she looks back.

**Author's Note:**

> Reblog the art!! it's so good!! https://sarma.tumblr.com/post/187267630484


End file.
